


Sex, Loki, and Videotape

by ughiguess



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Taylor Swift (Musician), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Night Manager (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blackmail, Dubious Consent, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Rough Sex, Sex Tapes, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughiguess/pseuds/ughiguess
Summary: Facing entrapment in a scandal that has nothing to do with him, Tom takes desperate measures to keep his name out of the tabloids. All he has to do is convince his ex-girlfriend he's not the gentleman everyone thinks he is, but in the process, it turns into more than a battle of wills.Non Con tag is to be safe, the sex is consensual.





	1. Sex, Loki, and Videotape

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, here goes. At first I promised myself I would never read RPF, then TH happened. Then, I promised myself I'd never write RPF, but then this rabid plot bunny bit me and wouldn't let go. I got through it by reminding myself that this is set in an alternative universe and that the people in it are not themselves, they are characters. I also want to make it clear that I’m not shaming this character for liking what she likes, he’s not either. Although I tagged Non Con, that's to be cautious. The sex is consensual.  
> Obviously, I don’t think any of these people would act like this in real life, that’s why I write fan fiction. My depiction of her here is based on the implications of some of her song lyrics, and my memories of the Google search I did on her back when they were dating and I knew nothing about her. How true to her real personality her lyrics are is questionable, there’s nothing to say she isn’t doing what all artists do by depicting images and concepts for an audience to enjoy vicariously, she herself could easily be living vicariously through them as well. I have to say I like some of her songs, but I’m still on the fence about her as a person.
> 
> I don't know anything about her new BF at all, I IMDBed him, that's about all. While I hope he's actually a good actor, I just needed him not to be for the plot. No offense is meant. Sorry to tag him as an original character, there's just no tag for him yet.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"It's Taylor."

"I know, your name is in my phone."

"How are you?" she asked warmly.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude but what do you want?"

"Fine. I need to talk to you."

"What's the matter?"

"Not on the phone. I want to see you in person."

"I don't really want to do that."

"Tom, please. It's important."

"Are you pregnant?" Tom snarked.

"It’s been over a year, it wouldn't be yours," she snarked back.

"You weren't seen for a while. Did you have a child no one knows about?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"Come talk to me in person."

For a moment there was nothing followed by the sound of a deep sigh.

"You're in London?"

"Yes."

"At a hotel?"

"Yes."

"Are you being watched?"

"Of course."

"So they'll either follow you here or see me coming to you. What hotel?"

"The ___,"

"Okay, I know a guy there, I could come in the back way. When?"

"Say, four?"

"Today?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yes, today."

Another sigh.

"Fine."

 

###

The door opened immediately when he knocked.

"Hey," she said warmly, smiling big. She went up on her toes and tried to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away and stepped back into the doorway.

"Don't be like that. It's good to see you. Come in," she said, ushering him down a wide hallway that led to a set of open French doors that delineated a sitting room. He followed her, noting her attire or relative lack thereof.

"You're not seriously naked underneath that bathrobe?"

"Come find out," she smiled, turning to him and gesturing for him to sit down. He remained standing. So did she.

"My days of wanting to see what's under your clothes are over. I half expect it to be lizard's skin. Now, what do you want?"

She sighed but kept smiling.

"Iiii... want you to be in my music video," she said, innocently.

"No way in Hell. Are you out of your mind?"

"No, and you don't even have to film anything. We've already started, we're taking footage of public appearances and doing it digitally. We just need your permission."

He rolled his eyes and hmphed. Shaking his head, he said pointedly, "Not in your wildest dreams."

She started to say something but he cut her off.

"What is it about? All the men you're fucked over by fucking them in order to fuck with other men's heads so they'll either fuck you or feel guilty about having fucked other women when they were supposed to only be fucking you? Fuck that and fuck you."

He glared at her and she took a deep breath.

"I know you miss me. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did."

There was silence as he gave her an incredulous look.

"Come on. I miss you too. We looked so good together. I'll release the video, we'll let them speculate, then a couple of weeks later we can get back together..." she said.

"You do have a sense of humor, don't you?" he said. "You're just trying to manipulate the press into using your old song, one that got more airplay, in headlines. Is your boy toy losing interest? Seeing you for who you really are? Well, I've got a headline for some day when he leaves you: all you're ever going to be is mean. All I have to say to you is, and as a country enthusiast, you might enjoy this one: I ain't that lonely yet." With that, he turned and set off for the door.

"Don't leave, Tom.  We're not finished."

He stopped short, her tone had completely changed. It was oddly threatening. He took a deep breath and turned back to her.

"That's exactly what I was afraid of. You being several steps ahead. You do think things through, don't you? Are you going to try blackmailing me now? Did you have enough forethought to film a sex tape I don't know about?" he asked, sarcastically. She laughed.

"Do you really think I would do that?"

"Yes," he deadpanned.

There was silence while they glared at each other. She looked away first after about 30 seconds. She gave a strange little smile and pursed her lips. He sighed again and against his better judgment said, "I'm sorry. I was angry… What is this really about?"

"There's no music video…" she admitted slowly. She sat on the couch, her posture suggesting defeat. She continued, "There are some pictures of him and another woman. It's about to break."

"That's nothing, you can say they're old," he said.

"No, there are visual clues in them about when it is."

"Right," he said. Still clearly skeptical he carried on, "And you want to publicly get back with me so… What? It looks like you never loved him anyway? Isn't that a bit of overkill, revenge wise?"

There was another pause in which she seemed to be regrouping.  He watched her decide to appear practical and waited. She didn't disappoint.

"Look, Tom, most of my album is about him. I'm going to look pathetic."

"You'll shake it off," he said pleasantly.

"Will you stop that?" she snapped. "Not that I'm not flattered that you listened to my entire back catalog."

"I browsed it, so I wouldn't accidentally use one of many things people already said that you've appropriated to turn into cash cows. And let's talk about your album, specifically the one about me. What was that? You trying to get me pity fucked?"

"That-"

"I'm in America all the time, I can get fucked on my British accent! By women who don't even know who I am! I don't need your help!"

She fumed for a bit then turned away. He knew she was going to come back with some other tactic.

"Obviously, you're angry. I can understand that. I know how it feels… He said he loved me," she said quietly.

"Aww,” he said with mock pity. “Did you get your heart broken? Does it hurt that someone doesn't want you anymore?"

"He does want me," she said, turning back to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, "Then what am I doing here?"

"It was a one time thing and he wants us to stay together. I can't do that," she said, firmly.

"Why not?"

"He cheated on me, you idiot!"

"You just said your whole album is about him, is any of it true? Do you love him?"

"I think so."

"You believe him that it was only once?"

"Yes."

"You're making it into far more of a scandal than it needs to be. Just take him back."

"What? No way!"

"Then maybe you don't love him."

"I think I could. But I can't stay with him after this," she said, scoffing. "I'm kind of seen as a feminist now."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"So you'd be expecting me to ride up on my white horse to save you because you're a feminist? Look, I actually am a feminist so take some advice. You don't need me, face it alone. You play the brokenhearted victim well enough, you'll get through it."

"That's just the thing, I've already done that. The new Taylor isn't that kind of girl."

At this, he rolled his eyes. "This is insane," he said, dismissively. "You believe your own bullshit. You're trying to script your life so that you look good on social media. Is your image that important to you? How long are you going to keep up this façade?"

"Look who's talking!" she shot back.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, bewildered.

"Everyone thinks you're some perfect English gentleman who can quote old movies and Shakespeare at the drop of a hat!"

"That's not a façade, that's a fact."

"Hmmph!"

"The entire time we were together, did I do anything that wasn't respectful? Did I ever not treat you like a lady?"

"Hmph. No. Why do you think I broke up with you?"

"You do fall for assholes, don't you?" he said, shaking his head. "Did you flirt with me that night hoping I might be like Loki in real life?" At this her eyes widened for a split second before she grimaced.

"Well you're not being much a gentleman right now!"

"And you, miss, are no lady."

She gave him nothing but a quizzical brow.

"It's from Gone with the Wind, how could you possibly not know that?"

Before she could answer however they were both startled by the sound of a key in the lock and the door opening in the main hallway.

"Hey, I'm home," a male voice said. Its bearer came into view stuffing his keys back into his pocket. He looked up and was clearly startled. "Oh!"

"Hey babe," she said brightly, as if nothing had happened. She went to him, kissed his cheek and turned back to Tom, gesturing vaguely at him. "This is Tom, we were catching up."

"Hi," said Tom, wanting to roll his eyes. "I was just leaving, isn't that right?" he asked her innocently.

"Oh, um, alright," said the young man, stepping aside so that Tom could pass him into the hall. "T-tall," he stammered.

"I'm sorry?" Tom laughed.

"Well, I mean, you're taller than I thought,” he stumbled. “I mean, I'm pretty tall too, but…"

It was just too easy. "Well, you've probably just seen me next to Chris Hemsworth," he said, reasonably. "Anyone would look a bit scrawny. It was nice to meet you." Tom pat him on the back of the shoulder and turned back to the tight lipped girl in the hall. He nearly tipped his head to her then thought better of it. Instead, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Taylor."

The young man was standing there a bit stunned so Tom turned and strode to the door, opening it. He was nearly out when she appeared behind him and whispered to him.

"You can't leave. What am I supposed to do?"

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," he whispered back, smiling, and closed the door in her face.

 

###

 

TS 11:40pm *Why did you kiss me on the cheek?*

TH 11:41pm *A kiss on the cheek says, "I know her well but I'm so comfortable around you that I know you'd never suspect anything because there's nothing going on." I did you a favor.*

TH 11:43pm *Goodnight.*

 

###

"It's bad, Tom. My guy says it isn't photos. It's a sex tape," said Tom's publicist as he entered the house, shutting out the London rain.

"Fuck! I knew it must have been something worse than pictures, it was far too flimsy an excuse to get me over there." He started pacing the kitchen as the man sat down. "How could she think I'd agree to associate myself in anything involving a sex tape?"

"I don't know, but this is going to escalate quickly. That video is going up tonight or tomorrow morning."

"Shit!"

"She can involve you whether you want her to or not. She can manipulate him into deliberately revealing he saw you there yesterday and then you're fair game as far as the press is concerned, at that point, you may as well have been having the affair anyway."

"What should I do?"

"I've got an idea. You're not going to like it," he said. Tom only smiled weakly and raised a questioning brow. "Your only hope is to go back there, and get something on her so she can't involve you in this."

"What do you mean, get something on her?" he asked. "What? Record her, like Kanye West? I don't think petty, millennial baiting bullshit artist is a role I can pull off."

"You're a damn good actor. I think you're going to have to," he said. "Right now, she doesn't know that you know what it really is. If she thinks you think it's just pictures, she'll think you're really willing to be involved. When you go over there with your phone on record, be yourself, act like you're willing to help, get her to explain her plan, maybe get her to admit it's actually a tape, email it to me quickly, then tell her you've recorded the whole thing."

Tom just shook his head. "I'd never do something like that, blackmail anyone that way, and she knows that. She'd never believe I was willing to go through with that. It would be an empty threat."

"I know you wouldn't do that, but you have to do something. There isn't much time. You need to show her you’re a total asshole."

"But I've always just been me around her, she'd know I was lying. The whole time we were together, how could I make her doubt that? How could I explain the way I was acting?"

"By telling her you were acting."

Tom started to say something, but was cut off.

"Make her doubt you, make her think you're just playing that type of person for your public image, that you're not who you seem to be. Convince her you're actually a cad. You only knew her a few months. You could carry off a pretense with her that long, especially if you're meant to be doing it 24/7 anyway."

"But-"

"She'll understand too, because she does it all the time, with people she doesn't trust. She's a known social media and press manipulator, you'd have been well within reason if you had acted like the perfect gentleman around her the whole time."

"I did."

"That's fine. That sets a precedent. If you’re that good at being good you can be that good at being bad. Now, you just have to go back over there and act like a total bastard. Just think of it as the role of a lifetime."

Tom sighed, shutting his eyes against the whole thing.

"You've worked so hard and you're right, I don't want anyone seeing a headline with the words 'Tom Hiddleston' and 'sex tape' in it…. Well, maybe 'Tom Hiddleston praised for feminist attitudes on display in new sex tape'."

They both laughed.

"Or,' Tom Hiddleston and wife accidentally star is word's most vanilla sex tape: don't even watch’."

"Hey! I'm not prudish! People don't think that, do they? … She probably does," he sighed.

"Good. Use that. She'll never know what hit her. Make her think she doesn't know you at all. I always suspected she wanted you to be Loki. Give her Loki."

"Hmm… yeah, she practically confirmed it yesterday... WWLD?" he said, wistfully.

"How did you leave it with her?"

"She texted last night, here," he said, showing the other man his phone.

"That's good. It already looks like you're softening up. Incidentally, why did you kiss her cheek?"

"It was sort of sarcastic, her boyfriend was standing right there and she seemed like she wanted us to pretend we're friends now. He looked like a startled little boy… I might have name dropped, I couldn't help myself," he smiled sheepishly.

"Even better, you're playing the part already," he said. "Sit here and think it through first, her possible responses, how you might need to convince her. Once you get in there, do whatever it takes."

 

###

As he sat in his living room going over endless scenarios of how someone as conniving as his ex-girlfriend was might demand that he prove himself to be equally as bad as she was, Tom went through several cups of tea. It was mid-afternoon when he heard his phone buzz.

TS 2:24pm *What does it mean when a reading doesn't go as long as it was supposed to?*

TH 2:26pm *Either everything went so well no one has notes or everything is so bad the whole thing isn't working and needs to be completely rewritten.*

This was good. The communication lines were open. He'd been wondering how to approach her about his willingness to see her again. He pondered his next move but he needn't have done so.

TS 2:38pm *You left before we finished talking*

It wouldn't help to appear too eager.

TH 2: 38pm *I think we'd quite finished talking*

TS 2:39pm *Come back, I want to finish our conversation*

TH 2:40pm *Where is he? You clearly didn't want him to see me there*

TS 2:41pm *The gym, he'll be there for hours, then he's meeting some friends*

TH 2:43pm *Convenient"

Let her wonder whether that was sarcastic or sincere.

TS 2:45pm *Please Tom *

He thought and started to type jibberish, knowing she would see him writing something, he erased it, then went silent. She was writing something now, but it never came through and the ellipsis bubble disappeared. He started to type 'Fine" but thought it needed to sound a little softer.

TH 2:49pm *Alright. But wear clothes.*

TS 2:50pm **

 

###

It was late afternoon and for the second time in two days, Tom stood outside her hotel door and knocked. He'd turned on his phone in the elevator in case she heard him coming and was watching through the peep hole. Having to think like her was exhausting, and it had only just started. The door opened and she beckoned him in, wearing jeans and a creamy casual sweater.

"Hi," she said, a little nervously, he thought. All an act.

"Hi," he said, more kindly as they went inside and made their way into the living area once again. "Thank you for getting dressed," he laughed lightly.

"You're the only man in the world who would ever say that to me," she said, sitting on the settee. He hesitated then sat next to her, close but not too close.

"Let's just start over," he said. She nodded and he continued, "What's going on?"

"A reporter has some pictures of him with a woman, they're clearly in London and she's known to not have been, ever, before we started dating."

"That doesn't sound so damning, so he, what, had dinner with her?"

"There are more…"she hesitated, her gaze dropped to her lap.

Tom took a deep breath.

"Let's pretend I'm saddling my white horse," he said. She looked up immediately but still looked reticent. "I'd need to know all the facts in order to react appropriately, we’d need to get our stories straight," he said, slowly.

"There are some," she said, "Probably from her phone, that are a lot more graphic." She looked down again, pathetically.

"You look so miserable," he said, smiling a little.

"I am. This sucks and it's coming at me like a freight train. This is going to break really soon," she said, her eyes boring into his, asking him to do something about it.

"And your plan is to make it look like you were cheating on him the whole time anyway? I still think that's overkill," he said, as neutrally as possible.

"I've rethought that," she said, putting a hand on his upper arm as if to reassure him. "I think it could look more like keeping my options open. Not a full blown affair, people just need to think we were still hanging out."

"Hanging out...in bed?"

"Everybody my age does it, Tom," she scoffed.

"Thank you for that," he said, gently but sarcastically. "I'm not 100, you know. We were born in the same decade… Why should I agree to this?"

"Because I need your help," she said, glancing briefly down at her hand that was still on his arm. "And I wasn't lying, I do miss you."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"I miss your manners, how you held the door for me. Little things. They didn't make'em like you in the 90s."

"He is young, isn't he?" said Tom. She was shifting nearer to him, in a way that made it look like she was just nervous, but he didn't think that was the case.

"It's not only this photo thing with him, is it?" he asked.

"No," she said, quietly.

"I suppose there's no point being delicate. Is it his career?" he asked, having been wondering about that aspect of all this. She took a moment to reply.

"Do you hear his name?"

"No, but perhaps that's because people think I don't want to hear it, knowing who he is. I haven't heard it from anyone in any casting conversations I've heard about. But he may not be in the running for roles related to projects I've been involved in. What is he trying to get into?"

"He wants your kind of roles. You know, King Kong and the Night Manager," she said.

"Those are two different things," he pointed out.

"Not really: Manly men doing men things," she said.

"I'm not sure I agree with that assessment, but nevermind. How old is he?"

"He's 27," she said.

"Oh, well then he's not even really old enough yet for those parts. Men are cast to play much younger roles until we hit about 32 then it sort of evens out. I was playing teenagers, the son of an important man, well into my twenties. Knowing that will probably incline him to stick with it. He's in the hardest years for a male actor."

"Hmm."

He placed his arm casually around the back of the settee, behind her shoulders.

"I hate to be cynical but in that case, there might be a reason he wants you to stay together," he nudged.

"I know, right?"

"What has he been in?"

"Some small stuff, and a big movie about hunting a Nazi, it's coming out soon."

"Tell me he's not the Nazi," said Tom, not sure whether he was hoping his hunch was correct.

"...He's the Nazi's son," she said, looking at him questioningly.

"Shit," Tom laughed.

"What? You just said something about playing the son of an important man."

"Yeah, but I was Churchill's!" He shook his head, smiling. "It's just… Not many actors have gone Nazi early in their careers and gone anywhere," he said. He cast around his mind for a moment then gave up. "I can't even name one off the top of my head…You can go Nazi later, on the heels of a big hero role when you want to show range but never before…"

"Damn it Tom, how are you so fucking smart, why do you even know that?" she laughed, leaning into him. He moved the arm behind her so that it brushed along her shoulders.

"He isn't very good either, is he?"

"He's… I'm not a movie critic," she said. He tilted his head toward her and raised a brow.

"I don't know," she sighed, smiling. "… He's no Tom Hiddleston. I dread that review. If I'm still with him when they write that…" She rolled her eyes at the thought of such embarrassment and they both laughed.

"He could always do something else in the business," Tom said lightly. "Does he look like a Nazi? Always need plenty of Nazi extras. Blond hair, blue eyes, that sort of thing?" he sniggered.

"By that logic, I look like a Nazi," she said.

"Well," he said, slyly. "There are those rumors..."

She punched him a little hard on the arm, but she was still smiling and he pulled her in for a firm but sweet kiss, his lips moving over hers slowly. He pulled back after a few seconds, however.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he said, earnestly. He didn't move his arm from around her though.

"It's okay," she said, quietly, peeking at him briefly. She seemed fairly comfortable now, they'd gone back to being friends, he'd just implied that he still wanted to be her lover. By now, she had to think he was hooked enough to help her.

"What is the goal, here? How do you want this to end?"

"I don't know. I don't have time to plan it. I just know I need something right now to show I'm not 2009 Taylor crying over a man again."

"And I should help you because…Go on with your reasons, you were convincing me before..."

"Well, it's a good story, right? You're that good guy I'm always going back to,” she said, looking up at him hopefully. “Depending on how we leak it, it could look like he was kind of the affair, emotionally I was always with you. The new Taylor is a conflicted bad girl. And you'd look like even more of a saint, to put up with me and take me back."

"When you put it like that, I could possibly be convinced," he said, thinking he’d look more like a sap than a saint. She was looking at him, expectantly, so he reached up to play with a strand of her hair.

"Come on, Tom. You'd never leave a damsel in distress, you're too much of a fucking gentleman," she said, giving him slight doe eyes. He wondered how far she was willing to take this.

"Are you going to claim you miss fucking a gentleman?" he said, pitching his voice low.

"Well, yeah," she said, as if it were obvious. "I mean, you've got ten years of experience on him...it shows in the sack."

"This is getting better and better for my ego," he said, cupping her jaw in his large palm.

"Good," said, glancing at his lips. "You know, the way you were bragging yesterday made me more attracted to you. You should really ditch all that humble, deep thinker crap," she joked. He chuckled.

"It's funny you should say that," he said.

"Why?"

"Never mind," he said and went in for the kiss again. He had all he needed on the recording, he didn't know how long he'd been here but his publicist had promised to text him after 30 minutes. He'd be able to keep her occupied for that long. He wanted to see how far she'd go but he was still in gentleman mode so he stuck to slow, sensual kisses and kept his hands in respectful places. They made out for another five or so minutes, he estimated, before his phone buzzed. 

"What's that?" she said, between kisses, but he pulled away, backed up a little, so she couldn't see the screen.

"I'm so sorry. It's just my publicist," he said, looking contrite.

"Tell him you're busy," she said, enticingly biting her lower lip.

"I'm sorry, it'll just be a quick email. He's been waiting for me to send him something... "

"We're having a moment," she mock pouted.

"...And sent. All done," he said, and put his phone back into his pocket. His arms went back around her.

"What could be that urgent?" she asked, skeptically. "What could tear you away from my red lips?"

"Well," Tom started. From here on he was on stage, it had to be perfect. He took a deep breath and imagined Jonathan Pine’s steel resolve running through his veins, he settled Loki's attitude and cunning on his shoulders like a fine-spun, Asgardian cape. "As soon as possible, he wanted me to send him…" Here he modulated his voice into mocking pity and said, "The audio recording I just made of everything that happened from the moment I walked in the door."

"What?" she asked, blankly. He could see her replaying that sentence over in her mind, making sure she’d heard it correctly. Slowly, a horrified look came over her face. She was stunned into silence.

"You didn't figure that out? Once again, outsmarted on tape," he said, shooting her Loki’s mischievous grin. She stared at him, it was beginning to dawn on her how much trouble she might be in, but she was still trying to reconcile his abrupt behavioral about-face. He stood from the settee and looked down at her.

"Tom, what the hell is going on here?" she asked, projecting false calm. He could see she was shaking ever so slightly.

"I'm taking out an insurance policy,” he said, coldly. “I'm making sure you leave me out of this, completely. Now that he's got that recording, your red lips are sealed… unless you want to kiss my arse." He turned to leave and heard her standing from the couch.

“You didn’t really just-” she started, worry clearly tingeing her voice.

“Yes I did,” he said firmly, not turning around or stopping.

“You! You son of a bitch!” she yelled, in full fury. Now he turned, to watch as she grasped for words for a few moments, then she steeled herself, squared her jaw and defiantly said, "You'll never let him show that to anyone."

"You don't know that," he said, unwavering.

"You're not that type of guy,” she said. “You probably didn't even send it to anyone, you emailed it to yourself."

"Again, you don't know that I'm not that type of guy."

"I do know that,” she said, this time more sure. “We were together for, like, three months!"

"Not constantly, hardly at all there at the end," he said, calmly.

"I know what I saw in the time we were. There's no way you'd show that to anyone. If it's even real. Did you even record anything at all?"

He watched her as he took his phone out, glanced at the screen and hit the button casually just before the speech bars started on the scrubber bar. Silence filled the room for a second, then, crystal clear, her voice began.

"Hi.

Hi…. Thank you for getting dressed.

You're-" He turned it off and started for the door as she followed.

"If you released that, people would never think of you the same way again, they'd know you did that deliberately. You wouldn't risk that," she said.

"Not necessarily. I can edit it to make myself look totally innocent. People get recorded unknowingly in hotel rooms all the time. I wouldn't have to be at all involved. It could be stolen, hacked from a computer. The metadata could be made to look like it had come from anywhere," he said.

"I don't believe you. You're too much of a goody goody,” she taunted. “You were saying it isn't a façade just yesterday!"

"Let me put this in terms you'll understand,” he said, stepping closer, into her space. “That's my reputation,” he said, cruelly. “You think I was going to show you anything other than what I show reporters and studio executives? You? Who share your life with the internet? You don't know who I am, and you never will. Unlike your latest mistake, I'm a damn good actor."

"Prove it,” she challenged “Act for me now."

He merely raised a brow.

"You're not that kind of guy,” she said with surety. “This is the role, right now. I dare you to prove me wrong."

He smiled, curious. This had crossed his mind as a possibility. He’d prepared for several but the most likely, the only thing she wouldn’t think he could fake… Olivia Coleman’s speech from the Night Manager had come back to him, ‘There’s not a scrap of you that won’t get used.’

He smiled and curiously challenged, "How?"

She took a step back, toward the bedroom, eyes locked on his.

"Fuck me like the kind of asshole who’d do something like that would," she dared and smirked.

“What?” He let himself laugh as if truly amused. Hopefully it would convince her that she’d surprised him. She stood there, smirking. He nodded, as if warming to the idea.

"That was what you always wanted, wasn't it?" He started toward her slowly as she backed away.

"You're faking. There's no way you're going to go through with this. Come on, prove it."

"I don't think you want that," he said. They were nearly at the bedroom. She backed through the door.

"Come on. If you're such a jerk, fuck me like a jerk," she said.

"I will," he said, stepping into the bedroom, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair.

"No you won't,” she said, smiling. “You'll walk me back until we hit the bed but you won't be able to keep this up, you'll collapse into giggles. That's who you are."

"Shall we try it and see?" he said huskily. They matched steps until she couldn’t take another. Her knees hitting the mattress, she stopped. He didn’t. He kept coming until they were toe to toe, his chest just nearly brushing hers.

"You know, you were right, I did flirt with you that night hoping you'd be more like Loki,” she said, mockingly. “Remember when you told me you'd never had to think about him in a sexual situation? You’re nothing like him. If it isn’t in the script for you to rehearse, you can’t do it. If you're that much of an asshole, then Loki's not much of an act, so show me. No prep time, no thinking it through first, show me how Loki fucks."

"Very well, why not? You can't tell anyone about it now. Think of it as a parting gift," he said, sarcastically.

"Seriously?" she said.

"Seriously,” he said sternly. “Take off your clothes.”

"You don't want to rip them off me?" she mocked in a sweetly innocent voice.

"I'm not undressing you. You're going to undress for me," he said, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest. "Do it slow."

She looked at him for a minute and when it was clear he was not budging, she glared at him and took off her sweater, crossing her arms to do it like in the movies. She tossed it aside. He pointedly looked down at her jeans. She slid those down her long legs and draped them on the bed where there was already a pile of clothes. She stood there in her basic white bra and underwear as he assessed her.

"I'm not going to lie, I was hoping for better lingerie," he criticized, unimpressed.

"Well, if you'd played ball yesterday, you might have seen some," she snarked.

"So, you thought I would be so glad to have you back, so reminded of your charms, I'd agree to help you and we'd make love emotionally on the settee?” he sneered. “What was your boyfriend going to do when he came home? Live tweet it?"

"No, his story had to come out first. He really wasn't supposed to be coming home that early. I was going to fuck and keep you," she corrected, pleasantly.

"But today it needed to look like you had no intention of talking me into sleeping with you. You'd act chastised, hoping to win back my favor by making it look like you were ready to put in some time before I trusted you again? So when I saw your sincerity, I would inevitably want to put you at ease by making love to you emotionally on the settee, only to have all my hopes of your humbled expectations confirmed by your convincingly demure undergarments?" He watched as he dissected her and by the look on her face, it was clear she hadn’t thought she’d been that transparent.

"Okay, fine. I concede,” she said, smirk completely faded. “Maybe you are more like Loki than I thought." She’d sounded pretty convincing, but this was nowhere near over, he needed to be sure. She turned to pick up her jeans.

"Put those down,” he ordered, startling her. “You're not getting out of this. You wanted proof. You're getting proof. The rest. Now.”

She looked at him, uncertain, then reached behind her back to unhook her bra. She dropped it down her arms and threw it onto the nearest chair. Her underwear followed. Rather than being cowed, her nudity seemed to embolden her.

He stepped closer, stopped, looked over her figure appraisingly. Apparently she took it as hesitation.

"Gentleman or jerk, Tom?"

"Maybe I'm both…” he said, a little more gently, deciding he should switch it up, confuse her. In that vein he said aggressively, “Now take off mine."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, unsure.

"No."

Her nostrils flared as she grabbed his gray T-shirt and pulled it up, he had the grace to raise his arms and help her. It was a good thing she was tall, he didn’t think it would be possible to do this to a smaller girl. The physicality of her somehow made this seem like a more even fight. He watched as she appraised him.

He was a little leaner than when they’d been together, she thought, having just been playing a soldier. Somehow that made him seem less like the hero type, his slightly sharper angles were less inviting than those warm, comforting muscles.

"If you're not the uptight guy I remember, you won't mind if I drop this on the floor," she said, voice a little more questioning than interrogating now, genuinely cautious. She did so, but he didn’t even watch as it fell.

"I'm not uptight. I'm British," he said, taking his phone out of his pocket. "I was going to take off these jeans myself, but for that comment, you're going to do it for me."

Fuming, she reached for his belt.

"Shoes first," he nudged.

She shut her eyes against the realization that she was going to have to kneel in front of him. She slowly did so and stared at those familiar, old gray shoes. If they were the same shoes, he had to be the same man, right? She slid them off, socks too. She looked up, face betraying nothing, and started on his belt, she left it around his waist in the loops and undid the button, then the zip on his jeans. She pulled them down awkwardly until he helped her, stepping out of them and slipping his phone into the pocket. He threw them onto the bed.

She stayed on the floor on her knees, eyed his face again, looking for any sign he was going to stop her. There was none. She looked back to the task at hand. The bulge in his boxer-briefs meant there was no mistaking he was turned on, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Anyone would be at this point. She certainly was. There was no point denying this domineering, demanding version of Tom was making her feel her pulse between her legs. She reached for the band, he let her, she slid them down slowly, revealing inch after inch of him. Once his cock sprung free it hovered, not fully hard yet, right in front of her. She ignored it, tugging the boxer-briefs all the way to the floor. Instead of stepping back to step out of them, he stepped forward, well into her space. His member was inches from her, she could feel the heat of his body. Her pulse raced and her breath became shallow. After a final glance up at him, she faced his groin. This was it. This was when she would find out. There was no way… She made sure he saw her as she licked her lips, then raised a hand, intending to steady him, and leaned in slowly, her mouth parted just enough to be slightly obscene.

Like a shot, Tom captured her jaw and tipped her head back, his other hand held hers as he raised her from the floor. His face was strangely tense as he waited for what she was about the say. She sighed huge with relief and smiled so happily he thought she might shout her joy.

"I knew it!” she said, resting her hands on his chest, still beaming. “I have to admit, I was buying it. You were right, you are a damn good actor. But underneath it, you're exactly what I thought you were, Tom. I knew you'd never let me blow you!" She laughed.

He let some of the tension out of his posture, his shoulders sinking a bit. He smiled his real smile at her, letting her think she'd won. He wrapped an arm around her back loosely and laughed shyly.

"You're right," he said, and pulled her in for a tight hug. He rested his forehead against hers and held her comfortably while she giggled. He let her relax while he prepared for the next part. He could have let her do it of course, but then he'd really be a cad even in his own mind. A reasonable excuse not to want her to easily presented itself, if she’d bitten him, he'd have broken character. Now he would confuse her, make her doubt him by showing her the easy way he changed personas.

“You’re right,” he repeated, looking deep into her eyes, smiling warmly. Then, tightening his grip on her, he tilted his head back so their faces were still close but not touching. His tone changed back to the cold, dominant man he was pretending to be. "You're right. I wouldn't. But you think it's my gallantry?” he said it as if he pitied her naiveté. The elation was slowly draining from her face and being replaced by a watchful, cautious expression.

“That kind of chivalry's dead,” he sneered. “This is my cad's self-preservation. You think I'd let you put your teeth anywhere near my cock?"

Unsure again, she tried to step back but he locked his arm around her not letting her go.

"I am, however, going to gallantly carry you to bed,” he said, picking her up bridal style while she was still a bit stunned. He carried her to the bed, said, “Make yourself comfortable,” and dropped her from higher up than she'd have liked, frankly. She watched him come at her, straddling her and advancing as she inched herself back toward the pillows. When she could go no farther, he settled some of his weight on her, she could feel the hard muscles in his abdomen press against her and something even harder, farther down. Her breaths became shallower as he surrounded her, resting a forearm on each side of her head and threading his fingers into her hair, forcing her to look at him. “I'm going to fuck you into the mattress like a cad and chivalrously make sure you come harder than you ever have before. Both, remember?"

She opened her mouth to say something but was too slow. He forced his lips against hers in one hard, practically closed mouth kiss. He smiled at her quickly, then went for her neck but now he was soft and gentle as a summer breeze. She lay there with her arms by her sides as his grip on her scalp relaxed and he let one hand glide down over her shoulders, skimming her breasts with the softest pressure as if afraid to touch her. He nuzzled her cheek, kissed her brow, slow and sweet, and looked deep into her eyes.

"Remember this?" he breathed.

"So far," she said, not sure where he was going with this. He hadn’t implied soft and slow lovemaking.

"Good, I want you to remember because it's about to change," he assured her.

He started by teasing her, giving her soft kisses then grazing the tip of his nose up the length of her neck. He held still above her, their lips millimeters apart but did not kiss her, only pulled away to focus on pinching her nipples harder than he usually would, then soothed them with his lips and tongue only to nip them just hard enough that she gasped, her hands clenching into fists as she gripped the sheets. After several minutes of this torture, he drew his face up close again and placed his lips right by hers letting the anticipation build as he drifted one warm hand down her thigh. He dipped for a split second as if he was going to kiss her but reared out of reach as she tried to respond, arching off the bed and reaching for him. Like lightning he put one large hand on her sternum and pushed her back down, pinning her there as she panted, his cold blue gaze boring into her surprised eyes.

“That was telling. Are you going to be an active participant?”

“Fuck you,” she snarled.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, edging backward, further down her legs. He grabbed one and repositioned them so that he could lie between her thighs. He began kissing up them, licking them alternately. She was panting now and reached for him, running her fingers through his hair. When he couldn’t possibly have gotten any closer to her center, he looked up at her and placed a hand of his own on each of hers, saying, “Hmm…”

He eyed her swollen nether lips pointedly and said, “No. I don’t think so.”

While she was gasping in disappointment, he shifted her wrists so that he held them tight in one hand. He looked around him as if just noticing the state of the bed.

"Oh, look. His clothes are in your room," he joked.

"That again? I was starting to enjoy this." She rolled her eyes but he ignored her.

"All over the place like a teenager. Are you sure he's 27?... Ah!" he said, grabbing something. Too late she realized it was one of her boyfriend’s neckties which he quickly began wrapping around her wrists.

 “Don’t you dare!” she laughed in disbelief as he raised them above her head and wrapped the other end around the bedpost, securing it. “Tom!” she squealed, genuinely surprised.

"Oh, come on, you're enjoying it," he reminded her with a charming smile. He leaned down like he was about to kiss her chest and skimmed along to the notch at the base of her throat with his lips. Not quite touching, he drifted up her neck, but when his lips were next to her ear he stopped. She could feel his hot breath on her skin.

"And by the way, I know it's not just photos," he said in a husky voice and rose for her reaction.

Her eyes widened and her chest heaved as he reached towards his jeans.

"I can't believe you thought I would ever be involved in something like that plan of yours. Thinking I was the kind of man you thought I was, why would you even think to ask me?" he asked, setting something on his phone.

"I was in town, you were in town. I needed something fast. Look, I just had to get out on top of this-"

"That was never your position of choice, as I recall," he said, as if remembering fondly.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically. “Untie me, you’ve made your point.”

Instead, he pointed the phone at her in the unmistakable gesture of someone about to take a picture, finger poised over the button.

"Don’t you dare! Untie me, right now!" she said, angrily.

He made a point of dramatically tapping the shutter, smiling at her, and turned his phone to show her briefly.

"Are you done?"

"No," he said, emailing it to himself and setting something else.

"Delete that," she said firmly.

"Why? It's a contextless photo of you in compromising position. My recording is one thing, but this doesn't implicate me at all. It's basically priceless," he said, gesticulating carelessly with his phone in hand.

"Delete it, Tom!"

"After," he assured her with a wink.

"After what?"

"I promised you an orgasm," he said, as if it were obvious.

"You think I want to fuck you after that?" she growled. 

"You're usually desperate to fuck men who treat you this badly," he said, lowering himself onto her again. He trapped her jaw with one hand, kissing her to distract her as he set the phone against a pile of clothes. He returned focus to her, caressing her whole body, kneading and pinching as he kissed her hard. Her legs involuntarily tightened around his hips.

"Tell me you're not desperate to fuck me right now," he demanded.

"I-"

But he cut her off with another kiss and continued to wind her up, one large hand gliding down, grazing her mound, skimming her inner thighs. He broke the kiss and looked her in the eye.

"Let's see how wet you are for me now you know what a jerk I am," he said, his own breath short now, his hand reaching for her entrance.

"What if I said stop?" she said, a little desperately.

"Say it. Find out," he challenged, flashing her Loki's vicious smile that could cut like a knife.

She was speechless, all she could do was watch this dominating stranger as he read her like a book.

"You're not going to do that," he said steadily, manipulating her amply slick folds. "And it wouldn't tell you a thing. Either I'm the kind of gentleman that never leaves a lady unsatisfied and the kind of asshole that doesn't take no for an answer, or, I'm the kind of gentleman that does and the kind of asshole that leaves her desperate and tied to the bed for the hotel maid to find when I call housekeeping and leave."

Staring at her with hungry eyes, he swept his fingers up her slit making her shudder as he gathered the evidence of her arousal.

"Look at you. You're clearly afraid I'll stop," he said, glancing at his glistening fingers. She watched in humiliation as he grasped his cock with the same hand and pumped it a few times.

"That really gets you hot, doesn't it, being with someone you can’t order around?" he asked.

She just glared at him.

"Come on, tell me. No one has to know," he taunted. "You've used that line at least twice now, you know that, right?"

"Fuck you, and don't slut shame me, I can't help liking what I like," she ground out.

"Then you'll like begging me," he said smugly, returning his hand to her thigh. Placing the other firmly on her lower torso to hold her down, he trailed the other up until he reached her entrance and teased it for a few moments, dipping the tiniest amount into her, then pulling out quickly. She was breathing hard and watching his face. He focused on his task between her legs as if entranced. Momentarily, he changed to tapping on her clit. It was the first time he’d actually touched it and it was so sensitive after all his toying with her that she exclaimed and nearly bucked off the bed. His hand on her belly pushed her down again, not letting her move.

“Oh, did you like that, my darling?” he asked. “Would you like more?”

She just glared at him.

“Ask nicely.”

“Tom,” she began, as if to protest.

“Not the tone I was looking for,” he admonished. He placed his middle finger on her entrance but didn’t push in and said, “Beg.”

She took some steadying breaths as he waited patiently, not moving a muscle.

“Tom, please,” she said quietly.

He rewarded her by slipping his finger into her to the first knuckle. She clenched around it automatically but he did not move again. She looked at him, incredulous, but he simply said, “More.”

“Yes,” she said, louder this time. “More… please.”

Again he slid his finger further in and she moaned and bucked when he twisted it and stroked the front wall of her channel with a blunt nail but still he held her down.

“If you’re not going to beg, properly, I’m going to leave.”

“You can’t leave!” she said quickly, breathless.

“That’s a little better. Why not?”

She looked pointedly at his hard cock.

“Oh, yes that. When I said I knew someone at this hotel, what I meant was, the cute little hospitality manager whose office is on the third floor. Redhead…” he trailed off wistfully, knowing these were the only girls blondes feared.

“Please, Tom,” she wheedled.

“Hmm, good,” he said, pushing his long digit all the way in and setting his thumb on her clit and holding it there.

“Tom! You have to, please, just,” she spluttered, trembling now.

“That’s much better,” he said, pleased. He started circling his thumb around her clit and rubbing her inner walls. He braced himself further up the bed and settled partially on top of her. He began to kiss her neck again while continuing his ministrations below. He paused after about thirty seconds and whispered, “Now once more for me.”

“God damnit, Tom!” she said, angrily. He gave her a skeptical look and began to withdraw his fingers. Her chest was heaving now, her eyes pleading. “Tom, just, I’m begging you! Please!” she whimpered, a little hysterical.

“Perfect,” he sighed happily, sliding a second finger back in with the first. She exclaimed and strained at her sartorial shackles. He continued to tease her, lavishing attention on her breasts with his mouth until she could barely breathe for the tension.

“Tom,” she said, trembling. “I…I want to touch you. Untie me.”

He chuckled between laps.

“Do I have to beg for that too?” she asked, desperately.

“No, just promise to behave,” he coaxed, propping himself up to look down on her.

“Fine, I-”

“And admit that I’m right,” he said. She looked at him questioningly. “You’re the one who only wants love if it’s torture.”

She visibly shrunk into the mattress as she let out an agonized breath. The corners of her eyes were a little watery and he decided to be merciful. He didn’t really need her to say it. He edged back to grab his jeans yet again and pulled out a pocketknife with a small blade. He reached over her to cut the tie and unwound it, freeing her wrists. Her exhausted arms fell to the bed as he closed the knife and tossed it away. He delved into his wallet while she rubbed her reddened wrists watching him. He tore into a condom and rolled it on while she lay there, heart racing.

“Ready?”

She nodded weakly.

Rather than crawling up to be even with her, he suddenly seized her hips and yanked her down the bed to him making her shriek in response.

“What a surprise, you like to be manhandled,” he said, sounding self-satisfied.

She looked away, shielding her face in one freed hand, but he lowered himself over her and turned her face back to him.

“Don’t hide, baby. I know who you really are,” he said, a little more softly.

"For the love of God, Tom, just shut up and fuck me," her voice and eyes pleaded with him.

As he began kissing her again, he used one hand to guide his cock to her opening, sliding it up and down between her soaked folds for a few seconds. He thrust in quickly and watched her face as she felt his girth stretch her wide.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, saying, “I just need a second to adjust.”

“Too bad,” he said, a little breathless himself, and pulled out only to start a punishing rhythm that soon had her moaning. She braced her hands on his shoulders, gripping his back then pulled his head to hers for another kiss. After, he pressed his cheek to hers and sped up.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered into her ear, not stopping or easing at all.

“I-a little,” she gasped.

“Do you want me to st-?”

“No!” she exclaimed.

He carried on, pounding into her as she clasped his torso to hers, nails digging into the skin of his back. The feeling was incredible, the sensations heightened like never before. His rough treatment was exciting her nerves and tightening the muscles in her whole body. She whined when his pace skipped as he adjusted to better brace himself but he resumed even faster than before. When her breathy moans became short, staccato cries, he knew it was time. He began to lift himself up for a final premeditated cruelty.

“Tom! I’m so clo-” she inhaled sharply. “Not again! Don’t stop, I can’t, please!”

“Shh shh, no, baby,” he murmured, molding his hand to her neck and kissing her face. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m just going to make sure,” here his paused to kiss and thrust, “You know,” he repeated the action, “Your place.”

“What are you doing?” she moaned as he rose and placed one large hand behind her shoulder and one under her ribcage. “Remember that time you asked me to fuck you from behind but I didn’t want to, because it wasn’t intimate enough? That was why you wanted it, wasn’t it?”

Her eyes went wide in anticipation and he turned her over, lowering himself and pinning her to the bed. She lay there, brain fuzzy in disbelief as he entered her again. He felt even gloriously bigger this way with the pressure of his weight on top of her. She lay her cheek on the bed in surrender as he left one hand gripping her shoulder and snaked the other beneath her to torment her most sensitive spot again. The pace he set was unrelenting.

The friction of the sheets against her breasts when he drove into her again and again was sweet agony and she could feel his sweaty forehead pressed between her shoulder blades. She grasped the sheets tight in each hand as she pictured his determined face, teeth bared in concentration and heard him grunting with each strenuous surge every time as he inched her up the bed. It felt so good, she couldn’t stifle her moans.

Soon, she felt her channel tighten around his length, every inch of her was so tense she knew she was about to break and with one more hard pinch to her aching clit that caused her to shout his name, he pushed her over the edge and she seized up around him harder than she ever had before. Her walls held him so tightly he stilled for several seconds until they released and the pulsing of her orgasm began. He shoved into her in what seemed like retaliation as she lay there, endorphins flooding her with every spasm that wracked her lower half.

By the time she finally finished, she realized he had too though she couldn’t have said when. He collapsed onto her back, his fingers buried in her folds but still now. He didn’t ask if he was crushing her, she didn’t care that he was. They lay there breathing heavily. He rested his head on her back, facing the same way she was.

“Have you ever let a man do that to you?” he asked, exhaling.

“No,” she said, doing the same. Her eyelids drooped shut and she could feel his voice vibrating through her whole body, leaving her questioning how she could ever have thought having him behind her wouldn’t be just as intimate.

“Have you ever been fucked that hard by anyone?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted, exhausted.

“Have you ever begged that hard?”

“No.”

“Have you ever come that hard?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Swear.”

“I swear.”

He rose onto his hands and knees saying, as if nothing had happened, “That’s all I needed to know.” He dipped and kissed her on the cheek forcefully then rose from the bed and grabbed his phone, knife, and jeans. He disappeared into the bathroom while she lay prone still catching her breath and wondering who the hell that man was. She rolled onto her back and pulled the sheet to cover most of her body. She looked around the room taking in the details, the items lying around, the scattered clothes she’d just been fucked amidst.  These real, tangible things, everyday objects, brought her mind slowly back to the present, back to what had been happening before he’d fucked her mindless.

After a few minutes Tom came back into the room wearing just his jeans and buckling his belt. He fiddled with his phone and smiled.

"Delete it, Tom, please," she said, remembering the photo.

"If I deleted that photo, I'd be the gentleman you always took me for," he said. "And if I deleted the video I made after that, I'd be an absolute fool."

She screeched, jumping from the bed and angrily yanking the sheet off with her. She was shaking her head in horrified denial and he just stood there, grinning. He made a show of watching it, moving the scrubber bar a few times. Sounds from various moments assaulted her ears as she stood there taking gulping breaths.

“Someone you can’t order around…

begging…

shut up and fuck me…

I swear.”

She listened, her heart sinking deeper and deeper into her chest.

"Cinematography isn't the best…but after all, this is my directorial debut," he said. "Then again, I managed to get a more natural performance out of you than whoever did that awful film you were in. This could be your best video yet, you’re certainly not lip syncing _these_ moans. Too bad I'll be the only one who has a copy... that you know of."

"You asshole! You wouldn't dare!" she yelled.

"I'm just the kind of asshole that would, actually," he said calmly.

"You hypocrite, yesterday you were accusing me of something like this!"

"I still believe you would."

“I’m serious Tom, don’t!” she demanded, helplessly. He just smiled until she launched herself at him, bed sheet be damned. She tried to grab his phone but he just held it higher so she started hitting his chest instead. He brought his arms down around her and tightened them until she was trapped and he could feel her shaking.

“Let me go,” she said, sounding queasy but calmer.

“Are you going to hit me again?”

"I'm serious, Tom, I think I'm going to throw up," she gulped. He let her go and she dashed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

He never heard her retching however, just the sound of the sink as she presumably splashed some water on her face or possibly masked the sound of crying. He pulled on his T-shirt and jacket as he waited. Eventually she came out of the bathroom wearing the robe from yesterday.

"Everything okay?" he asked, brightly.

She nodded, a little red eyed. 

"I really don’t think they did but if anyone saw me, I came to catch up, but mostly to talk to your boyfriend about a possible project, because that's just what a nice guy I am. Make sure he's on the same page, you talked about him too, remember?"

“Yeah,” she said hoarsely. “I remember.”

He turned and they walked toward the door in the main hall.

“So I guess that’s all just crap about you being a feminist and respecting women,” she tried, still shaky.

His heart was screaming at him to soften the blows, comfort her somehow. He turned back.

“None of that meant I don’t respect you. You’re a worthy adversary, you just happen to have lost this time. I’m really not judging you for liking what you like, I was just trying to get you to admit it. I wouldn’t have dished it out if I didn’t think you could take it. I was treating you as an equal.”

He said it as neutrally as he could, hoping not to sound too kind or sympathetic. He couldn’t risk overplaying his hand, so he didn’t go on. He had to let her come to the realization on her own that even if after all that she still had doubts about his rude, calculating, and demanding persona, she could never be sure, and he knew she would never take the risk knowing what he had on video. He’d crossed a line by tying her up but it could be edited. After that, it had been aggressive, but completely consensual and sadly, in the misogynistic tradition of celebrity sex tapes, she’d be pilloried, he’d be applauded.

Still, he didn’t like leaving her alone right now. 

"When is he coming back?"

She looked out the window at the dimming light and said, “Soon, probably. He's having drinks with some friends but he wanted to talk over dinner,” she said, sounding stronger now her anger was not wholly on Tom. “He better be back before it goes up on TMZ. I want to call the press and make a show of throwing his stuff out the window."

"What was that about not wanting to look like the old Taylor?"

"Well I haven't got much of a choice now," she said testily.

"No," Tom smiled and said pleasantly, as if it wasn't any problem of his, "I guess not."

He reached for the door knob but she said, "You know, you never quoted me any Shakespeare."

He laughed and turned back to her. He cupped her cheek in his palm and gave her a slow, intense kiss until she was breathless again, then pulled away, watching her draw a quivering breath.

"Oh a kiss…Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge," he said with a cruel smile. He turned and left and she stood there staring at the closed door for quite a while. He wasn’t at all who she’d thought he was. He’d fucked and left her like she’d fucked and left him.

 

###

 

"Oh good, you're here. Come watch this, he's not much to see," said Tom’s publicist from behind his open laptop.

"Yeah, I kind of thought he might not be," said Tom.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well…” said Tom, smiling shyly. “I have my reasons."

"So, there will be no retaliation from her involving you?"

"No."

"You're _sure_ she bought that you're a blackmailing bastard?"

"Of course, piece of cake."

"You didn't text me for another two hours, though," he said, skeptically.

"I admit she took a little convincing," said Tom, with a wry smile.

"For two hours?” he laughed then joked, “What did you do? Convince her with your dick?”

All Tom did was look away and turn bright red.

“...You didn't, did you?" said the man, starting to worry.

“I… let the trickster god take the wheel...” Tom began. “I set the phone up to record again... after I tied her hands to the bed."

The worry turned to a stricken look on the man's face.

“Don’t worry, totally consensual,” he white lied. “I just… gave her the bad boy she always wanted.”

"Holy shit! And you can hear everything?"

"And see it," said Tom.

"Video? Tom!"

"From what we know she's capable of, when she goes low, all you can do is grab a shovel,” said Tom, gravely. “When she called my bluff, she went pretty low. I went Loki."

For a moment there was silence.

"Can I watch it?" the man said slyly.

"No!" said Tom indignantly.

"I might need to critique your performance. How do I know she's convinced?"

"Trust me, she's well and truly convinced, or she'd never have sent me this text," he said, showing the other man his phone.

TS 1:37am *When can we do that again? *


	2. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all of you who don't think Tom would act like that, even in any possible alternative universe.

“Thank you for doing that. I don’t think I would have been able to,” Tom said quietly into the gloomy room. A dark figure rose from the sofa and walked casually forward.

“You might have surprised yourself,” said the dark god in front of him. “And it was no trouble. I owed you one for making me look so sexy and elegant for my adoring new worshipers. Of course, I don’t consider us completely even. If she ever wants to go again, you know how to find me.”

“Are you sure about that? She’s a snake.”

“So am I,” Loki smirked and handed Tom the duplicate he’d made of his phone. “Here, take care of that, it’s worth its weight in gold. Well, probably more than that, they’re making those things so light these days.”

Tom stared at it ponderously.

“Now, if you ever want to see her in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burning it down, you can see her in your… High definition flat screen,” said Loki, making Tom laugh.

“I might use that line,” he said. Loki nodded indulgently.

“Not to be vain but, I always thought that song was about me,” he said.

“Seriously, thanks for this,” said Tom.

“And know that, in case your inner Sir Galahad rears his head and you decide to delete it, I kept a copy.”

“Of course you did.”

Loki shot him a devastating smile and vanished.

**Author's Note:**

> That Nazi line is in reference to an article I read a while back online about the fact that, apparently, some white supremacists like TS, NOT because she's one but because they’re projecting their own agenda on her as a pretty, white, blond. I feel really bad for her for that, no one should have to deal with that.  
> Songs used/referenced: Wildest Dreams, Mean, Shake it Off, Blank Space, Ready for it, We are never ever getting back together (which I’ve never actually heard all the way through), and Getaway Car (which was a shitty thing to do to TH).  
> There are 3 songs, each by a different artist that I referenced as well, comment if you catch them or if you don’t and want to.


End file.
